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The Goddess Speaks By Laurie Okawa Moore |
Baby knows mom
takes care of peopleOne day out of the blue, my 3-year-old daughter, Mikaela, announced, "Mommies take care of people." Curious about her take on gender roles, I asked her to explain what daddies do. "Daddies play deaf," she stated plainly.
Even at her tender age, my little girl already knows that there are distinct differences in mommies and daddies and the way they get things done.
I think God gave women the ability to bear children so that humanity would be perpetuated as planned. For one thing, I don't think many men could stand the pain of childbirth. As a two-time veteran of the maternity ward, I have an intense understanding of real pain. Once my son Alex asked me how babies came out of their mommies. To get him to truly understand the concept of labor and childbirth, I told him to imagine trying to pass a basketball out of his body -- very slowly. After a thoughtful pause, his eyes grew large and he ran screaming.
I know of several men who double over in imaginary agony if their wives even suggested a simple vasectomy. The mere mention of this terrifying procedure and these men are running to their garages to take comfort among the power tools. My husband Bill's response to this painful suggestion was male logic in action. "Why?" he huffed dismissively. "You're going to be going through menopause in 10 years or so anyway!" No one is going near Bill with sharp instruments and dubious intentions!
In all fairness, I think Bill is a great parent despite his gender. Our kids know to go to Daddy for a tickle session or early morning snuggles. Daddy is the one who keeps track of the birthday/Christmas present wish list. Daddy is quick with a joke and can make up silly songs using their names. And Daddy also lays down the law with an iron hand when either kid gets out of line. But when the kids are sad, sick, or hurting, it's Mommy.
Let's face it, for women, nurturing is natural. For men, it's a learned behavior, and the learning curve can be steep.
For example, if one of the kids is sick, I can spot it from across the room -- even without my glasses. One look at their glazed-over eyes and too-rosy cheeks and I'm simultaneously reaching for the thermometer, uncapping the bottle of children's Tylenol and dialing up the pediatrician. With Bill, the kids would have to burst into flames before he notices a fever brewing.
Over the years, Bill and I have established a team approach with the kids. When Bill plies the kids with ice cream, I'm the one who cleans up the mess when they get sick to their stomachs. When Alex needs help with his math homework, he knows to ask Daddy the accountant, not math-challenged Mommy. When the kids want to "JUST LOOK!" in the toy store, Bill patiently accompanies them.
Tonight I leave on a three-day business trip. The kids will eat doughnuts for breakfast and red licorice and popcorn for dinner in my absence. Bathing will be optional for any child who falls asleep in front of the TV. Dirty dishes will grow in my sink, and dirty laundry will attempt to crawl toward the washing machine on its own. And for some strange reason, the kids will enjoy it. I won't bother to ask for details.
Laurie Okawa Moore is director of communications at the Hawaii Credit Union League.
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